Filthy 3: A Dark Erotic Serial by Megan D. Martin Page A

his chin between my fingers. His face was baby smooth, as if he had just shaved before coming up here.
    His gaze met mine. “No, mommy. I’ve been good. I’ve been really good.”
    “Are you sure?” My voice was stern.
    “Yes, mommy please,” he begged.
    “What do you want from mommy?” I let the tip of his cock rub against my clit. My legs trembled beneath me, weak, ready to give out, but I wouldn’t let them. I wouldn’t let the ache under my skin ruin this for me. This was my moment. The best moment this life could offer.
    “I want you to ride my cock, mommy.” His big hands gripped my ass cheeks. Stinging like he slapped them. The image of Taylor doing that exact same thing jumped into my head. Had it just been hours ago that I was there, back in that house, in that bathroom bent over a bloody sink with him fucking me from behind?  
    It was, but I wanted it to be longer. I wanted it to be a lifetime away. Forever.  
    “Mommy?” Richard was panting beneath me, drawing me out of my head. His chest rose and fell in quick spurts.
    “You better have been good.” I slid down on his waiting cock. “Are you hungry, baby boy? Mommy has been aching to feed you.”
    He groaned and leaned in, jerking my shirt down until my nipple popped out. The second he started sucking, I started grinding my hips on his dick. I was sore inside and I wanted to blame it on the drugs, but I couldn’t. I knew it was from Taylor. It was Taylor’s cock that had slammed into me repeatedly. It was Taylor’s cock that made me orgasm.
    Disgust rolled through me, but I didn’t stop fucking Richard. Instead I thrust hard taking all of his dick. The faster I moved the harder he sucked. I ran my fingers through his short hair and closed my eyes. Rhett’s face popped up immediately, his chiseled bare chest as he stood in his kitchen. I tried to shove the image away but I couldn’t. I needed it. I wanted it.  
    I pretended it was his cock beneath me. His mouth on me. It was even better than being called mommy. The only proverbial moment where I could feel like a mother, as fucked up as that was. Even Rhett trumped that.
    Richard gripped my hips and moaned into my chest.
    Would Rhett miss me? Would he be sad when he woke up and I wasn’t there? Would he go back to his life? Would he stick his dick in Sarah and never think of me again? Would he never think of his whore step-sister? The one who made him hard even when he fucking hated her?
    The feel of Rhett’s dick in my hand came back. With my back against the green grass of the cemetery, his big body looming over mine. Something warm bubbled inside me. It was that liquid warmth that was sweeter than coke. It was that feeling that made everything else disappear for the barest of moments. It was a good feeling and I thrust my hips harder to reach it. I was almost there. Almost to it. I dug my nails into the scalp beneath my fingertips. Rhett’s scalp. His short blond hair pressing against my skin.
    But then the feeling was gone, snatched away with the squeak of the driver’s side door being flung open, the whoosh of a breeze slammed against my skin. “What the—?” But my words were taken from me as big hands snatched me out of the car and off the dick I was riding. I met eyes with the owner of those hands. Eyes that swam with so much hate it made me feel an inch tall. Eyes that reminded me that I hadn’t been fucking Rhett Hale in that truck, but a stranger who liked to call me mommy.
    “Rhett?”  

TWO

    Rhett shoved me away from him and I stumbled backward, my bare ass smacking against the rocky pavement. He yanked Richard out of the truck. “What the fuck is this?” Rhett shouted as he slammed him against the vehicle.  
    Richard’s dick still hung out of his pants somewhere between hard and soft, the condom dangling pathetically. “Dude—”
    But Richard didn’t get to finish his sentence. Rhett’s fist slammed into the side of his face making a terrible smacking